


77 Years Between Goodbye & Hello

by writingramblr



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Night Nurse (Marvel Comics), Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Because of Reasons, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Movie: A Game of Shadows, Multi, Past Lives, Possible Polyamory, Sorcerer Magic, Soul Bond, Spoiler Alert - Freeform, Spoilers, er - Freeform, guessing at Dr.Strange's plot, spoilers for doctor strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen introduces his girlfriend of sorts to the new leader of the Avengers, only to discover what he suspected when he first encountered her, this is not her soul's first visit to the conscious realm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> because fuck A Game of Shadows for, as TvTropes called it, dropping a bus on Irene. this is just something silly, because i also wanted to point out hello, two actors who've played sherlock holmes now exist in the MCU as well as a john watson, or maybe even two...  
> this could develop into more fics of these two, or three, once Dr Strange comes out. and to think, i thought i would hate the movie...but now there are so many possibilities...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this story originally took place post the movie in my mind, and now having SEEN the movie I can better illustrate that. it is still an AU kind of version of events bc obviously Christine and Tony are not reincarnated lovers....alas.

Thor was sitting across from the man known as Stephen Strange, a man who crossed dimensions as easily as the Asgardians themselves crossed the galaxy.

 

He looked like any other Midgardian, but for his strange red cape, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Indeed, before Strange had extended his own hand in greeting, the cape had reached him first, and wrapped around his wrist and squeezed firmly before retreating. More than bizarre.

 

"You'd like my friend Tony Stark, Man of Iron. He's a bit rough around the edges, but maybe you could help him."

 

Thor didn't quite remember much of the rest of the conversation, as Doctor Strange kept his mead mug full, and with otherworldly tasting mead. It was not strong like the liquid fire he'd drank and toasted with Steven Rogers so many months back, but almost.

 

Doctor Strange knew exactly who the God was speaking of, and indeed, had been reading up on the inventor and billionaire, since before his hands were damaged. Especially after beginning his training in the mystic arts, and when he sought out Christine's help once more, it was there he saw the strings. 

 

Like threads, they were so minute and almost unnoticeable, but for his sharp eyes, he saw them.

 

While in the soul dimension, he could see a red string entwining her own soul, and it did not reach out only to his but also to another dark haired man who lived in New York. It was longer and stronger than the one that connected the two of them. 

 

Tony Stark. Somehow he and Christine were connected, yet when he mentioned his name to her at the next occasion he had to see her, she did not know who he was, other than what she'd read in the papers and the blogs online. 

 

Pseudo leader of the Avengers, now split down the middle from the Peace Accords, that to Stephen were anything but, and somewhat keeping a low profile, though still in New York. 

 

  
_"We should all have dinner sometime."_  
 

 

Stephen texted her the next day, after having thought it over. 

 

The man might be a volatile and brooding sort of man, but then again Stephen could have once been called the same.

 

 

  
_"If you want."_  
Was her reply back.

 

Perhaps she was still somewhat angry at and untrusting of him, but he could hardly blame her. He had not yet done nearly enough to redeem himself in her eyes, and he wasn't about to brag upon what he'd done in Hong Kong to try and win her over.

 

He was just grateful she saw fit to even still speak with him and agreed to spend time with him. He'd be buying dinner of course.

 

 

Before they could all meet, he knew he needed to meet the billionaire himself and try to see just what sort of reason their could be a connection between Christine and his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

If anyone had asked him to describe Christine Palmer, Tony knew now what to say.

Seconds after first laying eyes on her, he decided, it was quite simple.

She was not at all what he imagined when picturing a night nurse, or even a female doctor.

There was an air about her, when Tony walked into the room and saw her sitting on the couch, beside Stephen, and he smiled politely like he knew he should, even though several dozen cheesy pickup lines were forming in his brain, trying to crawl out his throat.

 _Stop._ Behave. He thought to himself.

Miss Palmer’s hair was long, past her shoulders, brown with lots of golden streaks, and she clearly wore very little makeup, but her eyes drew him in right away.

“Hi, Mister Stark right?”

He reached out to take her hand, and there was a sudden warmth sliding through his fingers, and she had just set her palm against his.

Like all those dumb movies, and cheap dime store novels. A spark. It felt comfortable.

Stephen was probably staring as Tony held onto her hand a little bit longer than should have been proper.

“Please, call me Tony. My friends do. I consider your boyfriend a friend, therefore, you, Miss Palmer, are mine. I hope.”

He glanced at Stephen, who appeared to be smirking.

He dropped her hand as quickly as he can without looking too guilty.

“Uh well, if we’re doing first names, then just Christine…or Chris. Whichever is easier?”

Tony blinked, his eyes drawn to hers once more. They were a strange mixture of blue, grey and almost had something like a streak of gold in the center. Aaand he’s definitely staring at her a bit too long _again._

“Are you okay?”

She was asking him, and he now had gotten a funny roaring noise in his ears, like when he used to get panic attacks, back before Sokovia and Berlin and the whole debacle with the Accords.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He straightened up and backed away from her, but he was still finding little reasons to look at her, even from across the room at the bar.

Pouring himself a heavy snifter of whiskey, he took a deep sip.

Stephen was clearing his throat, and Tony used the opportunity to rip his eyes away for good from the man’s girlfriend.

“Tony, we’re not together, really. We went out a few times, before all this… and I think it’s much safer if we just keep things casual. Don’t worry, I can tell you two have a lot to discuss.”

He blinked again, and took another long drag, wincing at the burn. The man had just read his thoughts, that was more than a little unnerving. Impolite too, but he supposed he deserved it. Leering at another man’s…lady friend.

“Stephen…what are you talking about?”

Christine…Chris, Tony corrected himself, sounded very lost. Having a magician or sorcerer boyfriend, or casual fling, whatever, who was more than all powerful and a little bit psychic had to take some getting used to.

“Yeah, no, don’t feel you have to run off. I mean, I wasn’t hitting on your lady…not at all. I just…feel like we’ve met before, but I just can’t quite think of where…”

Tony trailed off, realizing how ridiculous he was sounding, and then he caught Chris looking at him too.

She was watching him carefully, her lips parting slightly. She was wearing a very sheer sort of lipstick, rosy gold with a shine, and it was altogether quite appealing.

Fuck. That was the whiskey talking.

What was wrong with him?

Why did he keep expecting to see dark hair curling against her pale skin, and dark navy velvet in a collar, below her chin, and stolen teardrop earrings?

He blinked again, and stared hard at his glass, wondering if he’d been drugged.

“No. You’re perfectly all right Tony. But what you do have, is a very strong sense of _Déjà vu_ trying to push through your memories. The alcohol makes it easier, and seeing her face is the trigger for it, as you are for her. Isn’t that right Chris? Do you remember him at all?”

Stephen spoke softly, gentle with his probing question, and Chris looked from him to Tony, before she nodded slowly.

“I think so, yes. He was a detective…or something. An inventor too, but not just…”

Tony drew in a sharp breath,

“You’re totally serious right now? You’re not playing some kind of elaborate prank? Peter didn’t put you up to this?”

Chris was frowning, and shaking her head.

Of course she didn’t know the little spider-boy.

But Stephen would have, if he knew an iota of what was going on in Tony’s head, then surely he knew that much.

“Stephen…how long have you known…that we knew each other?”

Tony was just as curious, and he fought the urge to outright glare at the sorcerer. That probably wouldn’t keep him on his good side.

“I didn’t...really. Not for certain. Until I saw you two make contact. The lines, the strings, the one line that connected you two snapped in place, sprung to life. It would be cruel of me to deny you the chance to renew it.”

Tony took the final sip of his whiskey, and it no longer burned on the way down, but he certainly needed the strength it would provide.

“I, uh, your hair, was longer, and you didn’t have a beard…am I right?”

Chris was saying, asking him an uncanny question he wasn’t sure he could answer.

Until he met her eyes again, the many beautiful colors blending into one, a shade that made him think of a storm at sea.

Damn he was getting poetic over something as weird as the last time he took acid.

Good thing Rogers wasn’t around; he’d probably chastise him for stealing a future teammate’s girl. But he wasn’t even doing that…was he?

He’d completely forgotten.

“No. Chris is very much her own woman, and a modern one at that. She belongs to no one, and she can have whomever she chooses. Right now, she’s very much chosen you.”

*

Christine, or Chris as she’d begun to call herself since conquering the veritable mountain that’d been nursing school and the trials that came after, the hospital wings and the blood and the deaths she couldn’t stop, watched carefully as the billionaire and genius former leader of the scattered Avengers looked right back at her, his dark eyes somewhat guarded, but not cold.

At first, when Stephen had told her he was friends with the man, she’d not believed him, thought him just teasing her, as one did during the early stages of dating, although, when it came to dating such a unique man, or being, she supposed, perhaps the usual sorts of rules didn’t apply.

It seemed, they most surely did not.

For now, he was suggesting to her, well, more than that, _telling_ her that before her was another man whom she had a deeper connection with than she’d have ever imagined.

She’d never met Tony Stark before, though she’d seen his picture in the news and on magazine covers enough in the past handful of years, but she’d never bothered to purchase them or pursue anything more.

The blurbs and the gossip that surrounded him was more than enough for her. He was a public figure and that was that. He might as well have been the president for all she thought he mattered to her personally.

That was, until the battered and bruised bloody form of Stephen Strange had come through her emergency room, and her entire world had flipped upside down and right side back up.

It had been when she’d been forced to face the facts, besides the aliens that had rained down in New York a couple years earlier, and then the hullabaloo of something crashing into Washington D.C.’s branch of SHEILD, whatever that was; there was more than just normal everyday humans running around the surface of Earth.

Some were different, some were powerful and some were even dangerous.

Stephen was a little of all three, and  yet he’d ensured she was protected, and safe, and still could work from time to time, doing what she did best, saving lives.

She’d been a little confused at what he’d said a few minutes before, about how they couldn’t really be involved, but that had to have been a mistake, they were more than just a fling, more than just three dates into something…weren’t they?

Did any of it matter, when Stephen had just told her that more than just Déjà vu was surrounding her and the famous Iron Man?

Probably not.

Then again, she wasn’t drunk, and she certainly hadn’t missed what he’d just said. In effect, that she could…be with Mister Stark, if she wanted, and Stephen wouldn’t hold it against her.

It was all her decision to make.

Right. Okay.

“I’ve always had this beard, since my parents died that is. Before that, I was just a baby faced college dropout waiting to happen. After, I put my nose to the grindstone, and the rest, as they usually say dramatically, is history.”

Tony’s voice broke through her thoughts, haphazard as they were, and she instantly focused on his face, taking in that famous diamond shaped design facial hair, and she decided she liked it.

Maybe because it was so similar to how Stephen wore his…

She turned to look at him, and saw he was edging his way out of the room, how very rude of him.

“Where are you going?”

She didn’t mean to sound as pathetic and clingy as she did. But neither of the men remarked on that, or even noticed.

“Giving you two some space…thought it was only polite…”

He’d brought his hands together in front of his chest, long tapered fingers melding together, and there was a faint glow of blue sparks between them, growing from his palms.

“Oh.”

She managed; rather stunned he was really doing it, leaving her in the company of Tony Stark. Never mind how confusing the entire evening had been so far, she definitely needed a drink. Maybe it would help.

The gentle nudges in the back of her mind were beginning to grow rather annoying and she wondered if Stephen had been on to something…would a drink loosen the latches, open the virtual doors inside?

“You need only call me, and I shall return.”

Stephen gave her a textbook enigmatic smile, and tossed a wink towards Tony, that is, she _thought_ he did, and with a twirl of his fingers, the blue light brightened, and when she blinked, he was gone.

“Okay that was weird.”

Tony mumbled, and Chris got to her feet, quite steady, in contrast to Stark himself, who was almost swaying at the bar.

“Yeah…pass me a glass of that would you?”

He looked at her, right through her almost, and it was with a strange sort of concentration, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

“Irene…that was the name I knew you by…wasn’t it?”

Chris bit her lip, watching him pouring a somewhat shaky finger of whiskey into a fresh glass, and she nodded.

That name had sent a shiver down her spine, and it was as if one of the doors had shattered, blasting open, and releasing a memory that didn’t belong to her, but for the fact it _was_ her.

“Detective…that’s what you were…right?”

She accepted the glass and downed the alcohol in one gulp, which made Tony’s eyes widen slightly, before he spoke,

“I was…I guess. This whole thing is really, uh, different, for me. I don’t usually get told by a modern day Harry Potter…ish, Scientist guy, that I’m actually two people in one. Though I’m a genius, mind you, this is still a little difficult for me to accept…despite the fact that I’m getting very clear messages up here.”

He tapped the side of his head, and she noticed the graying at his temples, and the minor streaks throughout his dark hair.

It was close cropped above his ears, but long as it curved across the crown of his head, and was parted on his right side.

Stephen did his hair almost the same way, but kept it a little longer, long enough to tuck behind his ears, after she’d messed it up enough.

The detective… _Holmes_ …her mind supplied suddenly, helpfully, his hair had been long enough to nearly tie at the back of his head, almost covered his ears.

It was why he’d tucked it into his hat usually, or incorporated it into his various disguises.

“You all right?”

Tony…it was Tony…and yet Holmes also, was asking her.

She nodded way too fast, and it made her vision blur.

“Of course…I’m just…uh, flicking through the past as it’s coming to me.”

She giggled, and clapped a hand over her mouth at once, halting the sound.

It wasn’t like her at all.

She didn’t get drunk, or even drink that often.

Stephen had been the victim of a drunk driver, at least, that had been the story he’d used first, before eventually telling her the truth, and so it had turned her off, soured her to the idea of being anything like that sort of person.

That was neither here nor there.

Sherlock…no, Tony’s hand was on her arm, warm, and gentle.

“Should we go sit down?”

His voice was a low grumble, and it reminded her of the way he’d sound after they shared a cigar.

No, that hadn’t been _them._

“Okay.”

His hand found hers, and their fingers linked together, almost automatically, like habit, and he walked her over to where she’d been sitting before.

Watching the two men talk.

“Are we going crazy?”

She finally put it to words, her most tricky of the many questions she had instantly been plagued by, and Tony paused, before lifting his gaze from her hand, where he’d been rubbing a thumb over the back of her knuckles, seemingly unaware he’d even been doing it,

“I think maybe a little bit, but it is so bizarre, even before Stephen said anything, got too mumbo jumbo – y, I knew I knew you. Somehow. Though, truly, forgive me, I would never be able to forget a woman as beautiful as you. I’m a playboy; I’m around beautiful women all the time…well, I used to be. So, that’s saying something.”

Chris tilted her head, and the resulting headache wasn’t worth it, but she fought to keep her face neutral.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Stupid.

That wasn’t the important question.

But it had slipped out.

His hand dropped hers, and he reached for his glass again.

Of course she wasn’t hideous, she knew that well enough. But to hear Tony Stark say it, to hear a real honest to god superhero say it, well, that was something else.

Sure, Stephen told her she was beautiful, but well, he’d seen her at her worst first, working the graveyard shift, and now, he saw her as her best.

It didn’t matter.

He could see inside her as well, and she suspected he was just as attracted to her mind as her body. Tony drew in a shaky breath, she could see his hands twitching, as he kept from taking hers, she suspected, then he spoke in a garbled sort of rush.

“I think you’re probably the most stunning woman I’ve seen in, oh, seventy-seven years.”

That was a sentence that struck her dumb.

Why did that number feel important?

Why did it make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up?

Oh.

It was when she’d lost him.

When Goodbye had been robbed from her, but returned, that day, in Hello.

Ah.

“Thank you. You’re too kind.”

She was teasing him, and he was smiling back, at last.

He looked relieved, and a bit more relaxed.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was something else entirely.

*

Three months of sobriety meant shit, when there were severe levels of mindfuckery going on. At least, that was the conclusion Tony had come to.

Arriving at it hadn’t taken very long, just a few memories of his previous…whatever, adventures or something of that nature, had begun to surface, and when Chris talked, and teased him, more of them began to emerge, like bubbles popping in a glass of champagne.

“There was an opera, that was delayed, and eventually stopped, do you remember? I think it was the last time we saw each other.”

Something like regret twisted in his gut, and Tony nodded.

He wasn’t touching her in the exact moment, but he recalled, a quick kiss, in the heat of things, and a fleeting goodbye, before he was surrounded by dangerous looking men.

Her perfume had been sweet and sharp, like honey and strawberries.

Now of course, she probably used something like Estee Lauder, and it wasn’t strong enough to be smelt as far away from her as he was sitting.

Almost as if he was afraid to really reach out and break the distance between them.

Chris moved first, setting her glass aside, and bumping his knee with her own, as her hand slowly, tentatively crossed the yawning gap, making contact with his left shoulder, a careful, gentle touch.

“I’m sorry. I think I tricked you. Then, I mean. I wasn’t doing it out of spite or malice, I had a job to-“

Tony nodded.

“It got you killed. I could never forget. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry I couldn’t save you then.”

It wasn’t difficult to clap a hand over hers, keep her from withdrawing it, and again, it just felt right. Too easy.

“I knew what I was getting into…I thought.”

She gasped suddenly, and could practically hear the teacups shattering around her as her body had hit the ground, vision flickering, and lungs failing.

It was her last memory.

Before her current life took over.

Tony squeezed her hand gently,

“What’s wrong?”

Chris worried her bottom lip, before meeting his concerned gaze.

“I, I saw it. When I died.”

He winced, and set his glass down hard, before moving to face her, and he shifted strangely, but she instantly knew what he was asking without a sound.

She flung herself at him, and his arms wrapped around her at once, cradling her against his strong broad chest.

She could feel his heart racing, and she almost wanted to cry, but was afraid it might be a little overdramatic.

“Oh god, I didn’t get to say goodbye to you…”

“I know. Shh…it’s all right now, you’re here with me again, and you’re safe.”

His hand stroked the back of her head, and on through her long hair, and she nodded, cheek pressed into the crook of his neck, and she sighed heavily.

Stephen had been right after all. It wasn’t just cathartic and useful; she’d needed it, needed to unlock all the pieces to the mystery.

She smiled slowly to herself, realizing that sort of thing was usually Sher-… Tony’s job.

When she began to pull away, withdrawing her hands from where they’d been pressed into his chest, he didn’t quite let go of her, his hand slid around from the back of her head, from where he’d been caressing the hairs at the nape of her neck to cup her cheek, and his thumb brushed over the apple of her cheek.

Now it was her heart that was pounding, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from dropping to his mouth, and her breath caught in her chest.

Tony’s other arm had drifted down to just rest on her hip, and she noticed that she’d in effect climbed into his lap.

“Irene…”

He breathed out in a sigh, their faces now inches apart, and Chris blinked, and just nodded.

He hadn’t even asked anything, but she knew what he wanted, and she wanted it just as badly.

Tony leaned forward the final bit of space, and his lips pressed against hers, lightly, so cautious, and she felt a spark dance down her spine.

The way he kissed wasn’t like the lothario she imagined him to be, and the way his hand trembled against her cheek made her suspect he was just as nervous about the entire thing as she was.

Several moments passed, and they finally broke apart, equally in need of air, for their focus had been more on each other than something as trivial as breathing.

“It’s never been like that for me…not even with-“

He broke off, catching himself, and his eyes widened, almost as if he felt guilty, as if he was bad mouthing someone.

Chris simply blinked.

“I can’t say that really, because Stephen would never let me hear the end of it…but in a way, me too.”

Tony looked guilty for certain now.

Sheepish almost, and there was a hint of color in his cheeks.

“Oh yeah…your boyfriend who’s idea this all was in the first place.”

He chuckled, a little shakily.

“I can assure you, everything went more spectacularly than I had ever hoped.”

Stephen’s cool voice seemed to echo around the room, and Chris nearly fell over backwards as she jumped, startled by his sudden reappearance.

“You could use the door, like a normal person.”

She chided him, not for the first or the last time, she knew.

He was smiling, warmly, and he chuckled,

“Of course, you’re right, but then again, I’m not a normal man, am I?”

He gave her a wry wink, and then turned his gaze to Tony, who was still looking a little flustered, whether from the aftermath of the kiss, or simply Stephen’s presence.

“Look uh…”

Stephen shook his head,

“Please don’t apologize. I wanted to thank you both, I’ve never had the chance to encounter a repeat, a reincarnation, as the stories call them, at least in this first lifetime of mine, and I am so pleased I could help you. I hope it was indeed for the betterment of you two?”

He now looked between them, and Tony’s eyes grazed Chris before returning to Stephen and he nodded slowly, still looking a bit unsure.

“I guess, yeah, it was. I mean, very good for my peace of mind. Not so much for my abstinence of alcohol, but the meetings are never boring…”

He laughed, maybe more at himself than at anything else.

Chris worried her bottom lip, and then looked to Stephen,

“You can do something about that, right?”

He nodded,

“Of course. Mister Stark, forgive me for having suggested the alcohol was the only solution for remembrance.”

He waved his hand, and golden light curled about his palm before sliding towards Tony, and seeming to absorb into his chest.

He blinked rapidly and then seemed to brighten.

“Whoa, remind me to come find you when I get insomniatic”

Chris couldn’t resist a laugh at that.

“Tell me about it. Working the late shifts in the hospital nearly lists that as a requirement, and Stephen has been quite helpful.”

She smiled at him, and he beamed right back, leaving no room for Tony to jump to any sort of lewd conclusion.

Not that it mattered.

Things were already becoming quite complicated quite fast.

“So uh, now what? As we’ve recognized our…reincarnated selves…”

Tony looked quite lost, despite having been sobered up, and Stephen hastened to explain.

“You may still carry on with your everyday lives of course, but you have a renewed connection from your past, and there’s always the chance you will find your past skills coming in handy, whether in simple occurrences, or the most stressful of situations.”

Tony nodded slowly,

“Guess I should start reading Sherlock Holmes books.”

He glanced at Chris before his eyes darted back to Stephen.

“I would think you’d rather want to read up on the author. Surely you must realize he didn’t write those tales just from his imagination, in fact, I suspect Doyle was more central to your old life than you would think…”

Chris suggested, and Stephen nodded, confirming her guess.

“He was indeed. Watson is not merely a companion and assistant, he was in fact the man who was key to solving many mysteries, when Holmes was otherwise…distracted.”

His eyes softened on her and she knew at once he was referring to her past death. It had probably wrought chaos in Sherlock’s life, and it was a wonder he’d finished a mystery ever again.

Tony nodded.

“Of course…Well, I’m just glad those stories are public property, easy enough to get a hold of.”

Chris smiled.

“Yes, indeed. You could even pen a few stories of your own, maybe the mystery of the deep science division, or the study in green…about your friend Doctor Banner.”

Tony seemed to perk up at that, and he pulled out his cell phone, eagerly typing something in, before glancing at her.

“You know, I think you and Bruce would get along, we should all go out sometime, have a chat…”

Stephen murmured,

“Something tells me this Doctor Banner is your modern day Watson…am I correct in guessing that?”

Tony looked thoughtfully at the sorcerer, his thumbs poised over the screen of his phone, and then he grinned,

“I think you’re right.”

*

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> yes there really are 77 years between the original canon death of sherlock holmes and the canon birth of tony stark.


End file.
